


Something Good

by hannahindie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Dean, Angst, Cas x Dean - Freeform, Dean - Freeform, Dean Winchester - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Not too much, Smut, Smuttish, Supernatural - Freeform, cas, castiel - Freeform, castiel x dean - Freeform, just a tad, spn fanfic, supernatural fanfiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 10:48:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17021256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahindie/pseuds/hannahindie
Summary: Dean confronts why he’s so angry at Cas, and finds out more than he expected.





	Something Good

Dean has been angry. He’s been scared. But he is pretty sure he’s never been so much of both, _ever_. Of course, whenever Sammy is involved, one or both are off the charts, but this? No, this is new.

It burns deep in his gut, like an ember that just won’t go out. Somehow it sinks, deeper and deeper, the warmth creeping into the cracks and crevices that have been carved out during the years, and the longer he lets it settle, the more that fire rages.

He stares at the bloody man in front of him, head down, hands hanging between his knees, and the strange feeling is magnified tenfold. His hands practically itch, and he can’t tell if he wants to beat the shit out of something or find someone at the bar to screw it out of his system.

After several long, awkward moments of him standing there, clenching and unclenching his fists and being ignored, he picks up a chair and throws it. The already flimsy wood hits the wall with a crash and the chair flies into pieces. The man on the bed doesn’t flinch; he has seen worse anger, experienced more violence, and though he is not usually well versed in human behavior, knows this will pass.

“What the hell was that, Cas? Huh? What the actual fuck did you think you were doing?”

“I was hunting.” He doesn’t look up, though he does link his fingers together and begins rubbing one thumb against the other.

“Hunting? Is that what that was called? Because it looked more like you were getting your ass kicked. You’re lucky I showed up when I did!”

This time, Cas does look up, his blue eyes narrowed. Dean almost forgets why he’s angry, but then Cas speaks. “I did not need your help. I had it under control. I am not sure why you felt the need to rescue me, but you could have saved your time. I have been alive for several millennia without you, I can continue to do the same.”

“You are an absolute ass!” Dean grabs the bottle of whiskey off the table and takes a large gulp, relishing the burn as it slides down his throat. “You’ve lived for several millennia, sure, but you aren’t the same angel. You’ve barely got any mojo left, you can’t just run into a fucking vamp nest by yourself.”

“And whose fault is that, Dean? _Why_ do I not have any ‘mojo’ left?” he spits out angrily, his voice gravel as he air quotes sarcastically. “Could it be because I have given nearly everything to help you and your brother? Or maybe because I have betrayed most of my brothers and sisters, chosen you over them, time and time again? Which one is it?”

This time, Dean throws the bottle. It hits the mirror in the bathroom and it explodes, glass and whiskey covering the bathroom floor, glinting dangerously in the yellowed light.

“I didn’t fucking ask for that! You’re the one that said there were plans for me, I didn’t want it. So don’t you fucking dare blame me.”

“So you would have rather been left in hell, to torture and be tortured, for all eternity?”

“How did this turn back around me?! _You_ are the one that ran off on some half cocked mission, without telling anyone. You could have died! You would have if we hadn’t shown up!”

“I would have been fine. I do not understand why you are so upset with me. You wanted me to act less like an angel, correct? More emotion, less taking orders from Heaven. So that is what I am doing. You and Sam risk your lives all the time without asking my permission, I am not sure why I am not afforded the same options.”

Dean opens his mouth to respond, but snaps it shut before he says anything.

“What? No scathing Winchester come back? I am disappointed, your snark usually knows no bounds.”

Dean grabs his jacket off the back of the chair, “Fuck off, Cas. I don’t give a shit what you do, get yourself killed for all I care. I’m done.” He storms out and slams the door shut, leaving Cas staring at the closed door. 

* * *

“Another.” Dean slams his shot glass down and the bartender gives him a look before cautiously pouring another drink.

“Someone’s having a bad night.” Dean looks over to see a brunette, hair so brown it’s almost black, staring at him, bright blue eyes almost glowing in the darkened bar.

“That obvious, huh?”

She shrugs, “It’s not as if you’re being very inconspicuous.” She nods at the bartender and he sits down another glass, filling it with the same whiskey Dean is having. “I’m not having a great evening either, so maybe I’ll join you.”

Dean raises his glass, “To shitty nights.”

“To better companions,” she clinks her glass against his as she says it, then turns and drops a hand on his thigh. Dean looks down at her hand, then back up at her. Neither of them say anything; they don’t have to.

Dean grabs her hand and drags her to the back and into the bathroom. Her hands are in his hair before he even has a chance to spin around with her, pinning her against the bathroom door as he locks it. He wraps his fingers in her long tresses, pulling her head to the side so that he can get to her neck. She groans and he can feel her hand as it travels down and palms him through his jeans.

“Holy shit,” he whispers into her jaw, letting his guard slip just long enough for her to push him across the small room and against the sink. She smiles at him, then makes quick work of his belt. He bites his lip when the buckle opens with a jingle and she drops to her knees, unzipping his pants as she moves.

“Maybe this will help,” she says as she pulls him free of his jeans and his boxers and begins to stroke him.

“Fuck…yea…maybe it…will…” he stammers between ragged breaths as he watches himself disappear into her mouth over and over again. She looks up at him through thick lashes, and his heart aches at how beautiful her eyes are. They’re blue, but they seem to change colors depending on how she’s looking at him, her dark hair making them stand out even more. He can barely stand it, and he squeezes his eyes shut as she continues her ministrations.

“Oh…fuck,” he reaches down and once again takes hold of her hair, “Don’t stop…Cas…”

She _does_ stop, and looks up at him in confusion. She pulls away with a slight _pop_ , “Who’s Cas?”

His eyes fly open and he looks down at her, “What are you talking about?”

She frowns, “You just called me Cas.”

“No…no, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

Dean pushes her away as gently as he can muster, then pulls up his pants, “I have to go.”

“What? What the hell?”

“I just…this is a mistake. I have to go. I’m sorry.” He fumbles with the lock on the door, then stumbles outside into the back alley and leans against the wall, his head back and eyes closed.

_What the fuck was that?_

“Dean?”

“Jesus Christ!” Cas is standing just mere feet from him, his wounds already starting to heal, although slower than normal. His hair is tousled and his head is tilted as he stares at Dean, who is breathing heavily from both the incident in the bathroom and Cas surprising him. “Why are you here? I told you I didn’t care, I’m done.”

“I heard your prayer-”

“I wasn’t praying! Fuck!” Dean closes his eyes, hoping that the world will quit spinning for a minute, just long enough so that he can think.

“Are you okay?” Cas takes a step forward and Dean’s hands get that itch again, like they don’t know what to do.

“I’m fine, Cas. I just…” he trails off, thinking about the girl with the messy brunette hair and blue eyes, and suddenly there’s anger. Anger that he feels this way, anger that it took him this long to realize just why he was so angry. “Why can’t you just get it, huh? We care about you! We want you to stay safe. We’ve lost enough people, and then you - you just go running off after things, and it’s fucking stupid! You’re so fucking stupid!”

“I do not think calling someone stupid is a good way to show how you feel. I have heard it is offensive.” His eyes narrow and a fresh wave of anger floods Dean.

“Oh, it’s not a good way, huh?” He takes a step forward, his fists clenching at his sides, “Did I _offend_ you?” He grabs Cas by the collar and shoves him into the wall, “I am so sorry that it didn’t seem very sincere.” Cas says nothing, just lets his hands hang by his sides as he glares back at Dean, which infuriates him even more. He wants to punch him, hit him in that perfect mouth, bruise his perfectly chiseled jaw.

Then his lips betray him, and he’s kissing Cas hard, so hard he can _feel_ his lips bruising as he crashes into him, desperately seeking some kind of relief from this unbearable feeling. His tongue dances along his bottom lip, and Cas groans into him when Dean bites at him.

“ _I_ …care…about…you…” Dean grinds out as he moves from Cas’ lips along his jawline, and to the sensitive spot just behind his ear. “ _I_ want you to be safe.” One hand cups his neck while the other gets buried in brunette hair that is so dark it may as well be black. One of Cas’ hands slips along Dean’s back, right along the top of his jeans, then dips down below the band. His breath catches and he pulls back so that he can look at the angel. “I get angry because if I lose you…I just can’t lose you, okay? It’s just not an option.”

“I understand.” Cas kisses Dean again, softly this time, lingering for just a moment before he pushes away from the wall. “Love can sometimes be camouflaged as anger. I appreciate the sentiment.”

“So we’re good?” Dean’s face is unsure, as if he thinks Cas is going to reject him now that he knew what was going on.

Cas smiles, “Very much so. I am sorry I scared you.”

“It’s okay. At least something good came out of it.”

“And what would that-” Dean interrupts him with another kiss, and Cas nods, breathless.

“I see. Something _very_ good.”


End file.
